


may every nail be shown

by pearwaldorf



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, Established Relationship, Finger Sucking, Hand & Finger Kink, Hand Jobs, M/M, Morning Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-24
Updated: 2015-06-24
Packaged: 2018-04-05 22:05:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4196640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pearwaldorf/pseuds/pearwaldorf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A range of expressions play across his face, only some of which Steve catches: wonder, yearning, pure naked want (sexual and not). There’s hesitation there too, like he’s not sure how much he’s allowed to have. Steve reaches out his hand to touch Bucky’s thigh.</p><p>“Hey.” Steve says. Bucky looks down at where they’re touching. “Whatever you want. I’m here for you.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	may every nail be shown

**Author's Note:**

  * For [deepsix](https://archiveofourown.org/users/deepsix/gifts).



> Happy birthday, V. Here's (a) fic I owe you. It's not quite "wow i did not know that was A Thing for me until right now and i’m totally fine with that but for the love of god keep doing it" but I hope you like it anyways.
> 
> Thanks to [oakttree](http://oakttree.tumblr.com/) and [anonknewmoose](http://archiveofourown.org/users/anoneknewmoose) for looking this over.
> 
> Title is from [Landsailor](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q1dLIq0okvA) by Vienna Teng.

The early morning light filters past the curtains as Steve opens his eyes. As if in response, a breeze stirs, ruffling the fabric. It's a little cool in the bedroom now that it's the part of the year where mornings are cold, but the sun burns it all off later in the day. Steve thinks it's nice, because he can use it as an excuse to lay close to Bucky, press his face at the nape of his neck and kiss the jut of bone at the top of his spine.

Bucky stirs, and Steve pauses, not quite tensely, but aware that things could escalate quickly, even if that hasn't happened in a while. Bucky makes a half awake “mrrr” noise that Steve thinks might be contentment. It's an unguarded sound, one that makes him think Bucky might be adjusting more quickly than he expected. He wraps himself around Bucky, feeling the metal pressed against his left side warm as it takes in some of his heat. He's big enough to cover Bucky now, shield him from gunfire or the less lethal but still perilous challenges of the world. But none of those are here, and he can just enjoy the moment, present in their bedroom.

_Since he came back, Bucky had this habit of always moving to Steve’s left when they were alone together. At first he thought it was some sort of odd but harmless behavior left over from before, but one day he glanced to his side and the sun flashed against Bucky’s arm. Steve wanted to smack himself for not seeing it before, but settled for moving to Bucky’s other side._

_“Can I hold your hand?” Casual touch was hard, but telegraphed deliberate gestures were okay. Mostly._

_“You could have done that from where you were.” There was something in his voice that made Steve feel like he’d run off if he didn’t think it would be impolite. But that was good, especially considering he’d done so in the past without regard for good manners, Steve later finding him curled in on himself, literally and metaphorically, somewhere else in the apartment._

_“Not this one.” Steve gestured at Bucky’s metal hand. He put it in the pocket of his sweatpants, like he could avoid talking about it if neither of them could see it. His expression was unhappy, and Steve wondered what horrible memory he was recalling._

_“If you don’t want to talk about it, it’s okay.” He wasn’t sure if he wanted Bucky to take the out or not. Bucky pulled his hand out of his pocket and stared at it for a moment. He flexed his fingers, almost experimentally._

_“When they put it in I grabbed the guy who tried to test it around the throat. I didn’t know how strong it was. I crushed his windpipe.” He curled his fingers into a fist. It was hard to tell, but it looked tight, one that would have left crescent shaped marks on an appendage of flesh and bone._

_“Bucky, you couldn’t have known--” He held up the index finger of his other hand, and Steve snapped his mouth shut._

_“I’ve thrown people off buildings with this, used it to pull the trigger on more guns than I can remember.” His mouth twisted, like he found it funny despite himself. “And I’m reminded of that every time I move or look in the mirror.” He got that crumpled-in look that Steve hated, the one that made him want to stomp every last tentacle of HYDRA into the ground and salt the earth for what they did. But he couldn’t do that, at least not yet._

_“Hey.” He moved closer, slowly. Bucky’s eyes flicked up from wherever he was staring._

_“Can I kiss your hand?” Bucky nodded, looking a little confused._

_Steve slid his fingers under Bucky’s hand and lifted it to his mouth. Bucky’s fingers curled around Steve’s lightly, like he wasn’t sure how much was too much. Steve dropped a kiss on the back of his hand, soft and gentle, watching Bucky as he did so. Steve wasn’t naive enough to believe that this would make everything better, but he hoped it would show he accepted all of him: the person he remembered and the person he was now. Bucky’s face relaxed a tiny bit as Steve kissed his knuckles, one by one._

He mouths at Bucky's shoulder, right next to the join of scars and hardware. Bucky shifts his arm, and it's quiet enough that he can hear the soft whirr of the motors as the plates adjust. It was strange at first, but now it’s just another background noise of daily life, and he is grateful Bucky’s been here long enough for it to be unremarkable. His musings are interrupted when he finds himself flipped on his back, Bucky sitting on his heels, just looking at him. A range of expressions play across his face, only some of which Steve catches: wonder, yearning, pure naked want (sexual and not). There’s hesitation there too, like he’s not sure how much he’s allowed to have. Steve reaches out his hand to touch Bucky’s thigh.

“Hey.” Steve says. Bucky looks down at where they’re touching. “Whatever you want. I’m here for you.” Something in his expression shifts. There’s an intent that wasn’t there before, like he just needed reassurance, support for his course of action.

In contrast to his sudden dynamism before, he moves deliberately, with the same sense of barely constrained power, and Steve finds it goes straight to his cock, a helpless, overwhelming feeling of need that swamps his vision and makes him gasp. Bucky smiles--smirks really--that he was able to get such a reaction. He leans over Steve, kissing him sweetly, but also with a promise of more to come. Bucky’s mouth is warm and achingly familiar, and something inside Steve roars to life. He clutches at Bucky, a sudden desperate frenzy of breath and tongue and lips. He doesn’t have words to describe how much he missed this--them, together--and he hopes his body can communicate that for him.

He curls his fingers into the hair above Bucky’s nape, reveling in the feel of having him close like this again. Bucky’s left hand curls up against Steve’s face, smooth and hard. He strokes Steve’s cheek with his thumb, gentle and adroit, before leaning over and grazing Steve’s earlobe and neck with his teeth. He shivers when Bucky breathes against him, hot against his skin. He bites down, just a little bit, and Steve’s hips rock up on their own.

“I guess I did remember that right.” He doesn’t know if Bucky meant for it to come out as surprised and pleased as it does, but there’s a hint of wonder in his voice that some of his memories bear out true.

“I didn’t say stop,” Steve gasps as Bucky’s lips ghost over his skin, a maddening tickle of faint sensation that's nowhere near enough.

“You’re still greedy,” Bucky says, his voice surer now. “But you always looked so sweet, begging for me.”

_Bucky knelt in front of him, hands and mouth slick and unbelievably warm. He knew just how to keep Steve on the edge, so close it almost hurt. His lip was sore from biting. The walls were thin here, and people were home. Bucky tongued under the head of his cock, and he breathed a “Please”, more exhale than request._

“I remember too, so touch me now, please.” Bucky’s hands roam over Steve’s torso, and he revels in the contrast of metal and skin. He closes his eyes as Bucky’s hand wraps around his cock, tentative at first, then firmer. It feels different than it used to, but he can’t place how until he realizes Bucky’s using his left hand. Steve freezes, not sure how to process how hot he finds this, being stroked off with Bucky’s metal hand. Bucky stops and moves away like he’s been burnt, something between confusion and shame on his face.

“Oh Buck. No. No, it’s not like that.” He reaches out. “May I?” At his cautious nod, Steve brings Bucky’s hand to his mouth. He starts with kisses against the joints of his fingers, mindful of the edges. Bucky inhales, his eyes getting dark. Slowly, methodically, Steve takes each of Bucky’s fingers in his mouth, wet and sloppy. He can taste salt and his own precome on them, and it makes him suck harder, his teeth clacking against the metal.

Bucky pulls his hand away, fist around Steve’s cock again. It’s even better now that he’s against slick warmth, and he fucks into it, but only for a second before he feels Bucky’s other hand on his hip, stilling him. He could hold Steve down, even with his flesh and blood hand, but a touch is all he needs.

He must feel Steve trembling, trying to not move, and he jerks Steve tighter and rougher. It feels so good, the combination of friction and desire and the soft hum of motors building to a peak. Through half-open eyes Steve sees a glint of light off Bucky’s hand and the rise of his chest during a sharp intake of breath before his hips jerk off the bed, coming all over Bucky’s hand and himself. With quick, efficient strokes Bucky gets himself off, pulsing over Steve’s stomach. Casually, he licks his hand clean, and despite there being no truth to the rumors of superhero refractory periods, Steve feels a stirring nonetheless.

Bucky lays down next to him, breathing hard like he’s exerted himself way more than he expected. Steve takes Bucky’s left hand and laces his fingers through it, resting it on his chest. They lay like that for a while, until they become pleasantly drowsy. It's a good morning.


End file.
